Kitchen counter call while she fingers her senseless

Sweat-slick and flushed, she leans over the wooden counter trying to keep her voice steady on the phone. Her medium breasts sway with every shallow breath while the second girl presses close behind, one hand gripping her shoulder, the other sliding down her back. She bites her lip, eyes fluttering closed then snapping open as a fresh wave of pleasure hits. Her friend had dared her to call her boyfriend right now, mid-fuck in the empty kitchen after everyone left the party. The risk makes her drip harder; she fights to sound normal while the fingers between her thighs push deeper, forcing a tiny broken moan into the receiver.